


Nacre

by seki



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 17:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seki/pseuds/seki
Summary: Originally written for Cor Aut Mors, a Ravus-focused zine.A perspective on Ravus's childhood in Tenebrae.





	Nacre

Ravus's new sister is tiny, with just a tiny wisp of blonde hair, and her face is all fat-cheeked and very red. She stares blankly up at everyone who comes to visit, looking as if she'd rather be asleep. Everyone keeps saying how pretty she is. Ravus doesn't think she's pretty at all.

The dark-haired lady in his mother's hospital room_ is_ pretty. Ravus has never seen her before. Everyone looks at _her_ nervously, and she just smiles with her eyes closed and nods towards baby Lunafreya.

The visitors all leave, and Ravus's mother sinks back onto her pillows and exhales loudly. "Finally," she says. "I thought it would never be done."

"I'll take our son home now," Ravus's father says, patting Mother on the hand. "He's restless."

"As am I." Mother holds out her other hand towards Ravus, and he gently squeezes it. "You've been so good today. Your father and I are very proud of you."

"When are you coming home?" Ravus asks.

"Very soon, darling."

Ravus would like to know if 'soon' is hours or days or weeks, but he knows better than to argue with his mother. "Okay."

"You're going to be a good brother," Mother says. "Lunafreya will be a lucky girl."

Lunafreya sneezes, suddenly, and then looks horrified. Ravus thinks it's funny. She's so tiny, and even sneezing is new and strange to her.

He's going to have so much to teach her.

\--.

Lunafreya is boring. Ravus is sure he didn't spend this long being a baby. Sometimes he spends time in her nursery room; Mother says she wants Ravus to read out loud to his sister, and Ravus likes making Mother happy. The dark-haired lady -- Gentiana -- is often there too, along with various nurses and attendents.

The books Ravus is reading to his sister are mostly about dogs. The manor has a few dogs, but they're kept for hunting and Ravus isn't really meant to play with them. And his mother says he's not old enough for a dog of his own. But maybe one day he can have one. And he wants Lunafreya to like dogs, too, so there can't be any excuse to not get one.

"The Brother's devotion to the Oracle is touching," Gentiana says, one day when Ravus has stopped reading and is watching the nurse wipe spit off his sister's chin with vague disgust. "And it will be legendary one day."

Gentiana doesn't speak often, but when she does everyone pays attention. She's special, able to see the future. When she says 'one day', she means it. And the Oracle is Ravus's mother, but when Gentiana says it she means Lunafreya. Devotion means love. So she means that everyone will think Ravus loves his little sister. Huh.

Everyone seems to be waiting, just for a few seconds, to see if Gentiana will say anything else, but she doesn't.

Ravus picks up the book again, and goes back to telling Lunafreya about the dog called Spot.

\--

There are _puppies_.

Alright, apparently they're not really puppies. Apparently they're like Gentiana, which Ravus can't quite make sense of. Special. 'Sent from the gods'. One's white, and one is black, and they came with names already, and they're cute, and they look exactly like dogs.

But they belong to Lunafreya, apparently. Even though Lunafreya can barely walk, even though she can barely _talk_.

Ravus spends one evening begging to be allowed a puppy of his own. It's not fair. Lunafreya has _two_. All Ravus wants is one. A fluffy-tailed dog, preferably, one with big floppy ears, though he's willing to compromise as long as it's all his.

He wakes up the next morning with Umbra on his bed.

Uncertain, he holds out a hand for Umbra to sniff. Umbra does, and then it _yips_, like a dog, and wags its tail, like a dog, and Ravus decides that if this 'not a dog' is going to act this much like a dog, he's going to treat it like one.

Pryna always stays with Lunafreya. Constant, watchful, _devoted_. But Umbra plays with Ravus. Umbra fetches sticks, and chases balls, and barks at birds, and curls up by Ravus's feet at night.

Within a fortnight, Ravus has completely forgotten about floppy ears or fluffy tails. These dogs are self-evidently the best of all possible dogs.

\--

Father becomes ill.

Mother spends lot of time trying to make him better. Lunafreya, now able to stand unaided, also spends time in the room where Father is. She's supposed to be the strongest Oracle of all time, so if anyone can cure him, she should be able to.

None of it helps. 

Ravus is brought into Father's room, holds his hand while his father talks about _duty_ and _care_ and tries to blink back the tears he's not supposed to let fall. His father looks suddenly old, and there's no strength in his hands.

Why can't his mother fix this? Why can't Lunafreya, magical _special_ Lunafreya, fix this? Is it because she's too young to know how?

Why can't _he_ be the one with the magic powers?

Ravus stares at Lunafreya, held in Mother's lap, tears in her eyes, and can't decide if he hates her, envies her or pities her.

\--

Life gets back to something like a _normal_ routine after Father dies. Mother is sad, but she goes back to doing all the things she did as Queen before. For a while, everyone is very _nice_ to Ravus. He is given sweets and toys, indulged.

It doesn't make up for Father being gone.

Lunafreya is still a bit young to be much fun to play with, and Ravus doesn't think she really understands that Father is not just away for a while. But she knows that Mother is sad, and that Ravus is sad. 

"Would you like my malkai?" She asks him, at dinner, one evening when he's barely tasted his meal. "I know you like it."

He smiles at her. She's a kind child -- _kindness is her calling_, Gentiana said once, and that sounds right to him -- and he knows blossom malkai, rich with flower syrup, is _her_ favourite pudding. "No, thank you."

"Sure? It's really good." She holds out her spoon to him. "I don't mind."

He reaches out and tousles her hair. Bless her. She tries so hard to cheer him up that she sometimes succeeds. 

"I'm sure, sister."

It's not so bad, having a little sister, he thinks.

\--

Ravus doesn't like _any_ of the boys in his tutor group. His best friends have all moved away, and that's a pattern he sees more and more. Tenebrae belongs to the Empire, and so does Accordo, so they should be the same. And yet, it's clear that people feel safer not being in Tenebrae, these days. Accordo must be bursting at the seams from all the immigrants.

Ravus is smart, and he pays attention, and the ministers of his mother's council don't always watch their words around him. There are more Imperial soldiers around than there once were. The Empire's military bases hum with activity. It makes Ravus feel queasy, unhappy at the uncertainty. What can the Empire want from them? Tenebrae is already their territory.

His fingers track the teacher's reading down the page of his book. Imperial invasions, borders shifting.

He'd be a lot happier, he thinks, if the Empire were banished from Tenebrae altogether. What right do they have to claim the land that was given to his family by the Astrals?

Ravus bows his head over his history books, ignoring the boys he dislikes and glowering down at the historical evidence of Imperial greed and power.

One day, he thinks, he'll find a way to liberate his people.

\--

The Royal Family of Lucis are to visit.

Ravus knows about Lucis. A country across the seas to the north of Altissia. Old allies of Tenebrae, according to the history books, and Ravus's mother seems excited by the prospect. Apparently she's been corresponding with King Regis for decades.

Gentiana says something cryptic, as she usually does, about the light and the night coming together to forge a new dawn, and then she pats Lunafreya's head and smiles and Ravus puts the words through his internal translation-from-mystic system. Light. Night. Dawn. Prophecies, then, the ones about the King of the Stone and The Oracle. The son of the Lucian Royal Family is the one supposedly chosen by the Crystal.

That son has been injured in a daemon attack, and so, they come to Tenebrae, home of healers.

Tenebrae prepares to celebrate. There will be banquets, feasts, parades, music and art and theatre to celebrate the occasion. The Chosen King and the Oracle, as foretold, finally meeting. Lunafreya is so excited she won't stop talking about it. _Her_ king, she calls him. It's sweet, and a bit wearisome, but harmless enough.

Ravus can't shake a feeling of uneasiness. 

The prophecies themselves are unsettling, of course; Ravus has studied them in detail with a succession of tutors and scholars and they are not a promise of an easy, unearned glowing future. There is pain, and darkness, and _loss_ along the way to their destination. And there's little space in there for Ravus, mere sibling of the Last Oracle.

That's a word he doesn't see enough attention paid to, he thinks. _Last_.

But this alone isn't enough to unsettle. Instead, he sits and meditates, and tracks down his discomfort to the apparent unconcern of their Imperial handlers. Too content, he thinks, considering a foreign and opposed power will be on their soil.

It's not right. Perhaps it's just that they don't want to waste their efforts in fighting destiny.

Perhaps.

\--

King Regis is warm and fatherly. He shakes Ravus's hand firmly when they meet, his famous Ring digging into Ravus's hand, and looks him in the eye as if Ravus is a man grown. Ravus likes him, immediately.

Noctis, meanwhile, Crown Prince of Lucis, is a slip of a boy. Tiny and crippled with a wide innocent smile, it's hard not to feel immediately protective. Ravus doesn't bother fighting the urge. Tenebrae's castle is ill-equipped for Noctis's wheelchair. King Regis carries him when they reach stairs or impediments, and Ravus assigns himself to carrying the chair. Doing so causes King Regis to give him approving looks, and Ravus likes that too.

Within two days of their arrival, King Regis pulls Ravus aside.

"I must be in meetings today. My son would be bored at my side. Will you and your sister look after him? I know you're strong enough to keep him safe."

It's an act of trust, Ravus knows. His heart swells with pride, and he nods solemnly. "I'll take care of him, sir."

"Good man."

He regrets his agreement, slightly, when Lunafreya informs him she wants to show Noctis the view from the highest tower in the manor, Still, Noctis is light enough that carrying him so high isn't even too hard, and both Pryna and Umbra are smart enough not to get underfoot.

At the top, Noctis clings to the bars of the open window and smiles delightedly. Lunafreya, beside him, her hair blowing the wind, laughs and points out rivers and towns in the distance, occasionally turning to check with Ravus that she's getting the names right.

It's a perfect moment.

\--

The cell is dark, and it smells of blood. Lunafreya is asleep on the narrow metal slab, though she's not sleeping well; she keeps moving, whining in her sleep.

Ravus isn't surprised. Ravus sees his mother die every time he closes his eyes.

He puts out a hand, touches her shoulder.

"It's okay," he says. "It's okay. I'm here."

She shifts, curls up tighter, but doesn't awaken. Ravus removes his hand. Scant comfort his touch can be, he thinks. Their world is torn asunder. Nothing he can do will change that.

His mother, dead. All her attendants dead. The divine messengers vanished. The council almost certainly dead. King Regis fled with young Noctis, also likely dead. MTs and Imperial troops, setting the sacred grove ablaze.

Such is the punishment for consorting with the enemy, then. 

It is a miracle he and Lunafreya were not killed. But likely, he thinks, that the Empire wishes to make an example of them both. Parade them as political prisoners.

Ravus bows his head, and contemplates a future shackled to a wall in the darkest depths of Gralea's dungeons.

\--

It isn't much, Ravus thinks. A uniform. A badge. A tiny emblem that says the Empire believes in him. An indication that he is, for now, being given the benefit of the doubt.

He has pledged himself, mind and body, to the service of the Imperial Army.

It was a story spun in desperation, without consulting Lunafreya, after hearing the news that King Regis and his son had made it safely back to Lucian soil. It wouldn't serve for Lunafreya to have to put on an act. Best she believe him, even if it made her hate him.

"King Regis betrayed us," he'd spat, angrily, at the man sent to check on them. "And now my mother is dead. Give me my revenge. Give me a chance to even the score."

A pause, and then the man had leaned in, and laughed. "Oh, you _are_ a rare one. Revenge? That's what you seek?"

"I'll kill him myself," Ravus snarled. "Just let me near enough."

"Hmm. I'm afraid, dear boy, you'll have to earn that. But perhaps you just might."

The man had walked away, humming to himself, and Ravus had feared himself unconvincing.

But now, Ravus had been given a chance. He was garbed in Imperial drab. Sworn in to serve. And he would serve. He would serve so well he would be rewarded with rank, and power. The Empire would see him be loyal. The Empire would give him all the tools he needed.

He'd keep his sister as safe as he could, parlay whatever privilege he had into her protection. That wouldn't be seen as anything but brotherly love, no impediment to his true plan.

But he'd ensure that when the day came, when the Empire finally took action against Lucis, _Ravus_ would be the one sent to oversee it, sent to have his revenge.

Oh yes. 

The sergeant roared out a command. Ravus nodded, and saluted, and held his chin high. Let it all wash over you, he thought. Survive this, and thrive, and bide your time.

And one day, Ravus would teach the Empire all about _revenge_.


End file.
